


At Her Feet

by DenseHumboldt



Category: Captain Marvel (2019), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Gift Fic, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Secret Relationship, Tropes, Xandar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 20:19:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20784506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DenseHumboldt/pseuds/DenseHumboldt
Summary: Tumblr promot fillTwenty years post Captian Marvel a momentous occasion brings Carol and Yon together again.





	At Her Feet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GNorman_12](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GNorman_12/gifts).

Peace was an illusion. A haze cast by one enemy to another to mask their greater machinations. There could never be peace when one Empire could envy another. There could never be equality when another Empire could hold itself to the Kree and covet what they had; a wise leader free from bias, supremacy over technology, the vitality of their people. Peace was a false plea to garner pity from the superior force. There could be no peace, only well-met subservience.

Words Yon-Rogg had said to her. A lesson given, as many of theirs had been, on the training mat. He had been chastising her for her sympathy. Her hesitation in the field. He was mad not because he did not believe in mercy but because she had sought it and let the enemy too close. She had been scorched by a phased weapon. Injured because she had been too trusting.

He had pinned her as she tried to debate him. Her hips beneath his thighs, his hand holding both her wrists to the mat. His other hand had tugged back her collar. Sweat already stung the burn, the air chilled it and made it ache. She hissed.

"You'll heal soon," he said as she looked at him with violence in her eyes. She pulled air heavily through her teeth. "But I don't want you to forget the lesson pain taught you. Never accept an offer of peace from someone who is not your equal."

That was why she was surprised when over two decades later she received the invitation to the Peace Reception between Xandar and Hala. The war between them was so ancient it was more habit than ideology. A war where peace could be brokered on every front except the heart. Wounds too old to heal as the furrows had become gullies. Allowing the blood and bile to flow.

Her hands itched. It had been a long time since they had been in the same room together. Peace in an unmade bed. She called him before she could let doubt enter.

Their channel was secret, forbidden, well worn. Their messages as fleeting as fish. Thin flashing stripes of silver code connecting their mouths briefly before swimming deeper. Becoming lost in channels.

"Are you coming?" No greeting. No preamble. His voice warm like desert stones and just as rough.

"Did you sign a peace treaty just to see me?" She answered.

The timer in the corner was already in the red. The connection would disengage.

"Yes, come or I will call it off," she could hear the amusement in his voice. The mocking of her false bravado. Parroting her own joke back to learn how to laugh. The connection ended. The carp slipped the net. It would be days before she could risk opening it again.

That was how they had survived. Two decades of short exchanges. Promises, sighs, sometimes tears. Always shortened. Always stymied by the small glowing orb changing from green to red too fast. Anger couldn't grow. Lies couldn't be told. Only the swiftness of truth, of regret.

She would go then. Her heart hammered in her chest. She would go because she believed in peace. She would go because she wanted to believe in forgiveness.

* * *

The problem with the Kree and The Xandarians was their events were never simple. Carol had no one to rely on in times like these. Maria was on the other side of the comm talking to her as she bounced a grandbaby on her knee. She whistled loudly.

"It's not fair I have crow's feet and white hair and your ass still looks like that," she moaned as Carol turned in a circle for her.

"Do I look stupid?" She asked trying to find some panel on the ship shiny enough she could see what it looked like on.

"Yes, but assume that is the alien couture and not you," Maria answered her, as Carol bent towards the camera and ran her fingers through her hair. The small version of her in the corner of the screen was all she could rely on. Her hair was cut short, when she pushed it back it flopped over again.

"I have no makeup."

"Your skin looks smoother than Tilda's," Maria bounced the baby on her lap, "what do you need it for?"

"I haven't seen him in twenty years," Carol made herself stop looking at the mini Carol on the screen. Maria pouted her lips.

"So there's a''him ``?''

"No. Yes. There was before. And there kind of is now but it's not exactly like we can see each other."

"Don't date a man who would rather look at paint than your skin."

"Right. Right. He'll like me like this," she muttered rubbing her hands over the ribbed and embellished front of her outfit.

"Is there any doubt?" Maria asked, the keen of judgement in her voice.

"He ended a thousand year war to have dinner with me."

Maria scoffed. "Then why worry about the outfit? You'll only have it on for ten minutes."

Carol laughed nervously. The thought had only occurred to her ten thousand times in the last week that they would be close enough to touch. That everything she had felt would come flooding back.

"Okay, no more helping. Bye bye Tilda, Auntie Carol will be home soon."

"You're no fun, Danvers," Maria got out before Carol closed the connection. She tried to breathe deeply. Her ship was docked in Xandar's orbit. She hadn't wanted to land among the Kree dignitaries or the pomp and circumstance. She wanted to take the transports and ride the lightrail. Pretend for a moment it was when her and Yon-Rogg first met. Ignorance untainted by truth. Desire unfettered. An incredible lightness. A leaf on the surface of a deep black pond. When the nightmares had no answers. Something that was hard when she was living it but that hindsight softened.

She had no more left to do but to step off her ship.

She looked down her body one last time. She was all in black; tight legged trousers, tailored coat with a high collar. The breast heavily embroidered. It fit close to her body. From one epilet hung a short cape. It moved as she walked. She would look pale and blonde. That was fine.

The comm lit up on her screen. She bit the inside of her cheek as she opened transmission. He would like her.

"I don't see your ship."

"You won't," she answered.

"Vers," he started.

"Carol," she corrected as the comm closed.

She exhaled. She could do this.

* * *

Yon-Rogg was forced to stay at the new Embassy. It was a building his ambition had manifested. A covenant between the Nova Empire and the Kree. There would be peace between them. As enduring as the columns forged in Verrasteel in the heart of a dying star.

He was alight with nerves. He could feel Vers. She was teasing when she made it sound like she wouldn't come. Nova Prime herself had let it slip at the welcoming dinner the night before. She had been bragging in the way he found common in dignitaries. Was it meant to remind them that even though the Kree had decimated their forces Xandar still had one allied force in the galaxy? He had smiled calmly down the table. Raised his eyebrows in polite interest.

"I will be glad to see my protegé again, it's been so long," he had remarked in his soup. The Nova Prime's words petered out. A small reminder that not only was this Captain Marvel the creation of the Kree, she was trained by the Admiral that had led their military o endless victory.

The Nova Prime could never know the feelings that her words raised in him. An endless swallowing hunger for her. The woman whose voice lived in his ear. In small bursts of words they had formed a peace between them. He had tried to coax her back. She was relenting. He could feel it in her voice. He was certain. She would never agree to meet alone. And he could not risk impatience or imprudence from the few that remained above him. The ones that would try to kill her or recapture her.

He would not have it that way. He wanted Vers to take his hand. Meet subservience with passion.

He had left his rooms after he called her. She would be before him soon and when faced with the prospect of her he could not find stillness. He walked through the Embassy in his emerald dress uniform. Clerks and staff fell away quickly from him as he stalked down the hall. Guests had begun arriving. He stood above on the grand balcony and watched them pile in. All of them decked in jewels and finery. Each Empire vying to outshine the other.

His eyes searched for her. Each inhale and exhale sharp. She had to come.

He had completed his impossible task. He had wrung peace from two relentless military powers. His lost bride should appear before him now. That was always the deal struck in primitive myth. Appease the old gods and receive their divine love in return.

"Admiral Yon-Rogg," the Kree Ambassador hailed him. Yon was forced to turn and smile. "This evening is to your credit. Don't hover here. Descend and receive your due."

Yon-Rogg inclined his head the blue skinned man. "Ambassador Koh-Ral, do not mistake my observation. I was merely basking in what the Kree have accomplished."

The Ambassador started down the steps, signalling to Yon-Rogg to follow. Yon-Rogg fell into step his eyes moving more voraciously than ever. He felt the weight of each minute that passed. He resented each second lost.

"It is an accomplishment. I wonder what your father would say, if he were here."

"Something to the effect of 'there is more money in war than peace'," Yon-Rogg offered. He stayed one step behind the Ambassador as was his station. Koh-Lar laughed from deep in his throat.

"He was never wrong. He would have found someway to spin gold from the ink of this new deal."

"I have no doubt."

"We must greet the Nova Prime. Even when both sides' mouths speak peace the vultures watch for smiles. Let's not give them something to pick at, my boy."

Yon-Rogg's throat felt tight as the noose's knot pulled close. His window to find Vers was narrowing.

They entered the Grand Hall. There was a dias at the far end with two chairs. One for the Nova Prime and one for the Ambassador. The Nova Prime was dressed in gold. It flowed from her skirts and puddled down the stairs. Yon-Rogg was reminded of the formation of their ships. Even the netting of her dress made his impatient heart turn to conquering. She sat upright, her head tilted back and her finger resting delicately on her chin. She spoke to someone over her shoulder, hidden by the high back of her chair.

She nodded her head as the shadow moved. She saw the Ambassador approach and smiled. She reached her pale hands for him and her glittering gown caught the light. Yon-Rogg wondered what Vers would be wearing.

"Nova Prime," Koh-Lar kissed her hand. "The sun itself could not compete with your shimmer."

"You flatter an old woman." The Nova Prime smiled as she stole her hand away again. "Admiral, I hope everything is to your liking."

"If I were given one hundred years I could find no fault," Yon-Rogg swept his eyes over the rippling ceiling and the gold swathes strung across it.

"Captain Marvel was appreciative of the decorations. She offers her congratulations." Irani Rael smiled in silent triumph. Yon-Rogg's spine stiffened. Every muscle and tendon froze. If someone were to strike him he would vibrate like crystal.

"I had hoped to hear her thoughts myself," Yon-Rogg knew his look was too intense. He tried to read from every minute movement of her body some clue as to where Vers had gone. Irani glanced nonchalantly over her shoulder.

"I suppose she left. She must not have realized it was you."

Yon-Rogg bowed. He turned from them both and began to move through the crowd. If he shocked them he did not care. He had wasted his call earlier. He had been reckless. He had assumed she would seek him out.

Why had she come, if not to see him?

* * *

Carol's heart was in her throat. She had slipped in the side door and moved through the staff quarters. She had emerged from a small door behind a stage. The Nova Prime had been seated there.

"You look good for a military woman," Carol said over her shoulder. Irani had glanced smiling at her. Carol stayed with her back to the throne. She spoke from the side of her mouth low enough only Irani could hear her.

"And you look somber for a party. Your friend Admiral Yon-Rogg has accomplished what I thought would be impossible."

Carol's stomach tightened. To hear him called her friend seemed both too far and too near the shameful truth.

"What did this peace cost you?"

"Mostly dignity. Cheap after one thousand years of war."

"You trust the Kree?"

"No. And they should not trust Xandar. Love between two Empires is never made on paper."

"Then isn't it a little early for a party?"

"Better too early than too late." Irani looked in front of her. "The Admiral is a handsome man."

"Can you see him?" Her stomach fell away. It was too early. She wasn't ready. She felt panic rising in her throat.

"He is coming this way. He was eager to see you. Let me introduce you again."

"Everything is beautiful, Irani. Don't let me ruin it."

Carol took off she felt her cape flutter behind her.

"You are no fun, Captain."

Now she slipped through the crowd. Around her were glittering guests and dancing couples. Food was piled high on tables set to the side and waiters passed with fizzing glasses. A good reminder that even momentous days came with labour. There was no true freedom. She didn't want to eat or drink. She didn't even want to breathe. She moved to the edges of the crowd. Behind her whispers gathered like ripples. She heard her name repeated like chanting monks, distant echoing of mouths. The crowd parted and closed around her. People stopped to grip her hands. They asked if she had helped.

No, she hadn't. It seemed for today galactic peace did not need her. Her movement was slowed by reaching hands, she wanted to make her way to the terrace. This has been a mistake. There was still too much between them.

The crowd heaved and parted. From its mass Yon-Rogg stepped. She froze. Her heart was supposed to beat. They were surrounded by a crowd and Carol could only think of the ancient Kree ritual duels Yon had told her of; the Züg'er Ü'el. Two bodies locked in a battle of honour and ideology. Time stopped as they looked at one another.

She hadn't seen him in twenty years. The last time they had met as enemies. Now he was in front of her and the pressure built in her chest to say something profound. Something that would make these last two decades make sense.

"I was worried you'd have a beard," was all that came to mind. His lips quirked. His look that had been blazing into her was lost to the laugh he was holding back. He swallowed.

"You must live a charmed life to worry about something so meaningless," he inclined his head curtly. His voice that had lived in her ear echoed in her chest.

"I would have laughed if you had one," she shrugged. The crowd that had watched them closely, waiting for fireworks quickly lost interest.

"I would have deserved it," he offered her his arm. She ignored it and fell into step beside him. "You cut your hair."

"You got old," she smirked. He looked the same but different. Deeper. His ways more ingrained. He beliefs soaked further to his core.

"Not for lack of trying," he crossed his hands behind his back as their hands brushed. He moved as if she had burnt him.

They walked in silence for awhile. The first moment crossed. Nothing had happened. The hall still stood glowing in the evening. The earth had not opened up, the Accusers had not descended from the sky.

"I didn't know what I would feel seeing you again," she remarked, looking at the ground.

"It's strange to say more than a few words," he nodded. His voice was low and his eyes darted around. She was his secret too then.

"That's what worried me."

"I thought my beard worried you," he kept looking over at her. His head moving in quick nods as if she would resolve into dew.

"That, and that we would fight. I don't want to fight," she turned to look at him.

"Do you want to dance instead?" He looked at the crowd as the whirled together. Carol's stomach soured at the thought.

"I can't dance," she took a small step away from him.

"I have seen you dance," he enunciated his eyebrows raised. He had. He had always been thrown by her response to music.

"Then you should know better than to ask me."

"It's like fighting, Vers, I can teach you." He offered her his hand and too much of her wanted to take it. So she did.

She wasn't dressed like the other women. It never occurred to her to wear a gown. At least she wouldn't trip over her dress.

Her heart was pounding as he stepped them into the eddy of bodies. His hand on her waist. It was like how she had seen in old black and white movies. Except they were in space.

"I never thought of you as a dancer," she muttered looking at their feet as they moved. He took his hand from her waist and lifted her chin.

"Admirals dance more than they fight," he guided them too slowly, staying on the edges.

"You are an admiral now," she repeated. Time was descending on her quickly. How were they so different and yet it still felt the same?

"You knew that."

"I was aware of it. That's different than knowing it."

"And you are Captain Marvel." He hated the name. She could feel it chafe him.

"Carol suits me better."

"I liked Vers."

"No one calls me Vers anymore," she gave him a significant look from beneath her lashes.

"What if only I did?" He pulled her closer. Had she been on a collision course as she looked into his eyes? He didn't step away from her. He held her against him. It was like melting except she felt cold and hot. He whispered in her ear. "Could you learn to like it if it was just me?"

"Why do you hang on to it?"

Vers was aware of the other couples. She kept looking down as skirts brushed her legs. The music made it so to talk they had to lean into each other's ears. It was all too close, too painfully intimate. He must have sensed she wanted to get away. He let her go.

"This isn't an easy conversation to have while dancing."

"Maybe it is too late to be having it," she smiled and stepped away from him. The edge of the dance floor was close enough she whirled and reached it in two steps. She slipped through the bodies as Yon-Rogg pursued her. She had been wrong. It had been wrong to come.

The terrace was in her sights. If she got far enough from the doors she could fly to her ship. She could leave this all behind.

She heard his footsteps hit the flagstones moments after hers. She didn't look back. She kept moving her eyes on the stairs that descended to a maze of shrubbery.

"It's been twenty years," Yon-Rogg's voice stopped her. She turned to look up at him from the bottom of the steps. He was so beautiful lit be the far away lights of the ball room. She felt tired and old. "There must be words for what passed between us."

"There are. I had trouble remembering them until now."

"What are they?"

"Betrayal. Lies. Deception-"

Yon-Rogg descended the steps after her. "That was not all we had. You know it's not. Even now there is more between us."

"Are you mated?"

His eyes widened slightly. His cheek dented slightly where he bit it. She had shocked him.

"Is that your first question?"

She shrugged. "It's one I couldn't ask in twenty years."

"Would you leave if I said 'yes'?"

"Immediately. Point me towards the exit."

Behind her the maze opened up. She wanted to get lost in it.

"So, will you stay if I say 'no'?"

"Stay for the party?" She raised her eyebrow. "On Xandar?"

"With me. Will you stay with me?" His eyes held hers and she let him reach for her shoulders.

"For how long?" She narrowed her eyes at him

"Until I am too old." He leaned into her again.

"Too old for what?" She glanced down between them. He seemed as vital as he had the day she left.

"You make this hard" he hung his head

"Try asking for something you know I can give."

"Two minutes every call."

"Traces take fifteen seconds," her mouth was a hard line. He knew why she had built the automatic disconnect. She wouldn't let him find her.

"One minute?" He bargained.

"What are you going to do with one minute?"

"I could shock you what I can accomplish given a minute." She realized too late he had maneuvered her back to the wall of the garden.

"From a galaxy away?" The night was cold but she was hot from his words. His eyes had been dipping to her mouth more and more. She had told her heart to ignore it but the sound of the crowd was far away now.

"Give me an hour here and I will change your mind about leaving." Her back hit the dense foliage. His hands came to her waist. They could still be seen by too many people. She pushed him away gently. His eyes flicked around them.

"Twenty years and that's all you can offer me?"

"Didn't I offer you everything already?"

"I didn't hear it." She brushed pat him deeper into the maze. He followed her, his voice low.

"Kree aren't made for speaking of love."

"You can end a thousand year war but you can't tell me you love me?" Carol turned to walk backwards down the garden path. Her face was awash in mock shock. She didn't know what she had expected. Or what she had wanted.

"Why do you think I ended it?" Yon-Rogg kept steady pace following her. She was reminded of predators whose stamina exhausted their prey. Walls of shrubbery rose beside them as she walked half turned to talk to him.

"So you could have a drink with me?" The Embassy was farther from them now. She stopped walking so he almost collided with her.

"Every war I end, Every colony I disassemble this galaxy becomes simpler for us." Yon-Rogg stepped into her forcing her from the main path. She let him.

"Does the SI know you are shaking the foundations of an Empire to be able to date a girl from a backwater planet?" She put her arms around his neck. His hands found the hem of her jacket and crept beneath.

"The Empire believes I am brokering peace to regain our greatest weapon." His fingers flexed into the small of her back and Carol thought she might fall over the way her knees buckled.

"I am not a weapon." She looked into his eyes, her words firm. She didn't see fervour or conviction. His gaze was soft. Relieved.

"No. You are a woman from a backwater planet and I am a man from a universe away and somehow I find myself destroying everything I ever believed to keep you safe."

"The galaxy doesn't feel much safer." He was pulling her closer.

"It might never be, but all I can do is lay peace and freedom at your feet and hope you accept that offering. Even when it is imperfect. Incomplete."

She wondered if there was a new peace between them. The edges worn smooth by repetition. Comfort. Even now the urgency was deeper, lower. The plucking of a bass instead of the scratch of violin strings. They had no time but also they could hover here for forever. This was enough. She closed her eyes.

"I am incomplete. I never became what you wanted for me." She breathed into the closing space. That was the rub wasn't it? Everything had been about his training. What it meant to be Kree. Without that, did he still want her?

"My vision for you was short-sighted." He brushed back her hair that fell forward.

"Did the almighty Yon-Rogg admit he was wrong?" She looked at him again. He pursed his lips, would he ever laugh with her again?

"I have spent twenty years telling you I was wrong." His hands moved slowly, tracing up her sides until they wrapped protectively around her throat. His thumb brushed beneath her lip.

"Spend another twenty and I will think about staying."

"So we will meet back here in twenty years?"

"Every twenty years. Until you are too old." She flashed her eyes at him. He had missed the expression in them. Memory was too distant, too inexact for all the ways she could speak with her expressions.

"I don't know if I can wait any longer," he pressed his forehead to hers.

"Just come back to my ship. We can go anywhere."

"I can't."

"Why not? If our mission is the same, if you want the same things I do, why not come with me?"

"Vers," he leaned closer to her, closing his eyes. Her old name like a prayer. An old god.

"Carol," she repeated her hands coming up to stop him. "Say it."

He hesitated.

"Yon, say it once. Car-ol."

He smiled at her, "the mighty Vers, I don't know if I can think of you any other way."

She moved her fingers over the ridges and buttons of his uniform.

"Carol. It means joy on Earth. Precious. Desirable."

He let go of her, their foreheads still resting. His hand covered hers, pressing her palm over his heart. "It does suit you then."

"Can't we start again?"

"Fresh starts are only good in theory. I have carried regrets so long but only because I lost something I valued. I would not lose it completely for both the Kree and Nova Empires."

Carol wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close. His arms wrapped around her and held her tight.

He turned his head and kissed her. Small, soft. A prelude.

Above them a flash of light and the boom of a ship coming in too hot. Yon-Rogg quickly turned his hand pushing her back behind him. A black ship like a bat forced its way through a jump point. Light crackled as the ship tore the edges, wind whipped up sucking into the hole it was ripping.

Carol stepped around Yon her eyes on the sky.

"An Accuser's ship?" She shouted. Yon's eyes were wide. "Was this a trap, Yon?"

"Ronan," was all he said before he turned to run back towards the Embassy.

"Ronan?" Carol repeated falling behind him at a run. As they neared the terrace the commotion grew louder. The crowd was pushing like panicked animals to crowd towards the banks of ships. Yon-Rogg took the stairs two at a time.

He slowed his pace as he reached the doors shoving his way through the crowd. He met the Nova Prime on the dias her face drawn in shock. Carol was only a few steps behind.

"Ronan?" The Nova Prime asked.

"We knew there was chance," Yon-Rogg exhaled hard. He was already shrugging off his jacket. "I suggest you evacuate."

"Will he make demands?" Carol asked her hands on her own fastenings.

"No. He is past that. We need to evacuate."

"What will you do, Admiral?"

"I am taking a ship up." He threw the jacket of his uniform over the back of the throne.

"I am coming with you," Carol added hers to the pile.

"No. Evacuate. If he learns you are here he will try to capture you." Yon-Rogg took off towards the small passage to the servants wing.

"Try being the operative word," Carol followed. Generals of Nova Corps already crowded around Irani.

Yon turned to see her in pursuit of him.

"Vers fall back."

"You are not my commander anymore."

"It's too dangerous, Ronan is unhinged."

"Yon, you know I can handle this stop trying to hold me back."

"I can't." He stopped and turned even as the building above shook with Ronan's assault. He took her by the shoulders. "I can't risk you falling into his hands."

"The galaxy will only be safe for us if we work together. You can't do this alone."

She broke free and moved past him.

"And you can? You are always alone. That's all my reports say. Lone defector, Vers."

"Then come with me."

Yon-Rogg hesitated before following her.

"Fine but we stay in the ship. No going binary."

"In these pants? Commander, I wouldn't dream of it."

"Why do I feel like we are going to get up there and you will do whatever you want?"

"Only one way to find out, Admiral."

* * *

Ronan was standing in on deck watching the first assault fall on the Embassy below. He was lit by righteous betrayal. His people, the warriors he believed them to be, had been laid low by the machinations of the House of Rogg. Ronan had been driven to distraction the last twenty years as he had seen the Kree Empire dismantled piecemeal.

He wondered why no one else could see it? Were they all so easily fooled? He had felt himself grow hoarse protesting to the Supreme Intelligence. They had insisted the Admiral was loyal. That he was baiting a trap. That there were greater plans a foot. Ronan balked at the idea.

The weapon could be recaptured by more direct means. She could be reshaped through commune with the Supremor. Only Rogg's idiocy sought to seduce her back to their side through empty acts of peace.

"Ronan, you do not see the eyes that are on the Kree. The Defector has set herself as our enemy and has won sympathy and admiration for her acts. She cannot be simply reclaimed like a game piece. Without her surrender the Kree will only seem to fear her. Admiral Yon-Rogg has the right of winning her back."

Ronan bent before the Supremor not realizing yet this was to be their last meeting. "He was the one that lost her on C 53. I-"

"You were there too," his mother looked down at him with green eyes. He hated them.

"I did not fail you as Rogg did."

"No, but he has been working to redeem his mistake."

The anger still boiled. Xandar had been the final straw. Ronan would not allow peace in the war that had killed his father and his grandfather. He had ripped the Supremor from his system and doused the engine housing in Xandarian blood. All around him the smell of burning iron whet his appetite. He watched on his screens as two figures sprinted among the chaos to a ship. While others fled this one flew to greet its attacker. He smiled.

He would know them anywhere. The fools. The traitors. The ones he sought with his fire and his fury. And they were coming straight to him.

* * *

Vers was braced in the co-pilot seat, her harness in place. Yon-Rogg began to flip switches. Vers reached above her and began to toggle between settings.

"Leave it," Yon-Rogg grunted.

"You are putting too much strain on the drive," Vers countered.

"I taught you to fly this thing. Don't touch it."

"And you always got lag on your take off. It's annoying."

He grunted and engaged the thrust. Their bodies pushed back as the ship hurtled forward. Vers let out a whoop as Yon-Rogg throttled back.

"That doesn't prove anything," he muttered. Vers looked over at him beaming. He felt the weight of twenty years of flight without her descend. He couldn't part from her again. That much was clear to him.

"Uh-huh," she nodded her eyes rolled. "What's the plan?"

"Draw him away from the Embassy and hopefully down him in the Ocean."

"And the SI will agree to that?"

"This peace with Xandar was not made lightly, Ronan attacks his own. He is subject to Nova's justice." Beside them Nova Corps ships screamed through the air. "Stay quiet."

Vers opened her mouth the protest but she closed it as Yon-Rogg opened the comm. She took over the controls so he could talk.

"Rogg," Ronan's voice growled over the channel. His face was large on the screen.

"Ronan, cease your fire and surrender to the Nova Corps."

Ronan laughed. "You have brought shame on our empire, I will look forward to finally bringing you down."

"You do yourself no favours. You were stripped of your rank when you jettisoned your crew."

"They defied me. It was mutiny."

"There can be no justice without trial. Surrender your ship and stand before the Supremor."

"The Supremor will grow tired of this show, Rogg. How long will their patience last when you fail again and again to deliver the weapon?"

Yon's eyes slid to Vers. She was still, her look focused. She heard but she would not look at him.

"If I am so low to you then what if I were to offer another deal?"

Ronan could not keep the intrigue from his voice, "what could you offer?"

"Züg'er Ü'el"

There was a pause. Ronan's face obscured by dark so only the flashing of teeth was visible.

Vers looked pale as she gripped the steering.

"I did not think you had it in you. So be it. I will welcome your challenge."

The comm closed and Yon-Rogg immediately opened another.

"Admiral Rogg," Irani Rael's voice was tight. "Nova Corps is in position. We defer to you. Our minds turn towards peace."

"Ronan has agreed to meet on the field of honor. I will be boarding his ship. If the attack resumes you must bring the ship down," his eyes glanced to Vers again. "And extract any that remain."

"Is Captain Marvel with you?"

"She is."

"Then there is hope."

Yon-Rogg closed the channel as the Accuser's vessel appeared before him. It opened its bay doors like a bird of prey. Vers piloted the ship smoothly into the hangar. Her eyes kept glancing to him. He felt them flick over and over him like the throb of a flame.

"Say it," he muttered as the shadow of Ronan's ship passed over them and the lights from the console were the only illumination.

"I will face him," she said lowly.

"This isn't your fight. You are free from the Kree Empire." The determination poured off him and Carol wanted to scream.

"Do you even have a weapon?" The craft landed with a small rocking. Her focus in Yon-Rogg.

"Weapons are forbidden in Züg'er Ü'el," he unstrapped. She followed suit her hands fumbling. He faced her, he reached beneath his shirt and pulled out a light silver chain, from it hung a dark emerald ring. "I have thought for a long time what would happen when I saw you again. I made so many plans."

"Don't tell me this," she said through clenched teeth. He unlooped the chain and gathered in his palm. "Let me fight for you."

"I need you to understand what I am saying. I had so many plans." He cupped her face with his hand, fingers threading through her hair.

"Yon" she breathed his name before he kissed her. He dug his fingers in hard and pulled her tight to his mouth. She half rose, pressing her mouth against his, meeting his strength. The smallest parting of her lips letting him pull the air from her lungs. She felt his other hand trail down her arm, reaching for her hand. Ronan was near, below them fires burned but she could only think about how to save him.

He pulled back slightly, drawing breath, sharing air between them. "And this was just one of them."

Carol felt the chain constrict around her wrist. It looped around the arm of the co-pilot's chair. She pulled away from him her eyes alight with the pain of betrayal. She tugged against her bond, allowing the star fire beneath her skin to ignite.

"It's no use, that is Verrasteel. Forged in a power even greater than yours."

"Yon, you can't," she cried as she rattled against her bonds.

"Don't wait here. Take the ship. While Ronan is distracted help Nova Corps bring him down." He touched her hair, his eyes moved over her face as if he were trying to memorize her. She locked her free hand around his wrist. "I know you can fly this thing with one hand behind your back.

"You'll die. I won't let that happen."

"For once in your life listen to me," he hissed. He broke away from her. He was aching. She could see the regret in him. She had to reason with him.

He was already walking away. He had no armour. No weapon. She was bound to the chair and yet she threw herself forward trying to reach him.

She crouched over the chain, her powers glowing. It heated and heated. It turned white but she could not break it. She howled in frustration.

* * *

The Dark Aster was a large ship. Too large to be piloted by one man but if others were aboard, if Accusers had survived Ronan's culling then they kept well hidden. Yon-Rogg had been in some ways prepared for this moment.

He was a strategist, he encountered every possibility with cold logic. He had hoped for other things. He had hoped Ronan would disappear into the vacuum of space, a mad king in his empty meandering kingdom. He had hoped to make repeated and desperate love to Vers. To claw back small pieces of the twenty years that had been lost.

Instead, the worst had happened. Ronan had made it to Xandar. Their peace treaty doused in blood and Vers shown for the last time she could not trust him.

Yon-Rogg knew the general layout of every Kree warship. He knew the low ceilinged hall he followed would lead to the main cabin. That would be where Ronan commanded from. He could see the door rise, dark blue light, the colour of blood, was pouring from the edges. It was like he was within the channels and arteries of his own heart.

There was nothing left to lose. He engaged the comm.

"Yon come back," her voice was immediate, hoarse and desperate.

"Listen Vers, I have loved only you. Remember that." It would cut away soon. A safeguard of her own design. He would not open it again.

"Carol. My name is Carol. Come back and say it to my face you bast-" it cut away. Yon-Rogg laughed. A fitting final words. He took the comm from behind his ear. Peeling the implant from his skin. He crushed it underfoot as the door to the chamber opened.

Ronan stood in the room. He was alone, stripped to his waist. Across his body black markings and ash. It seemed he too was prepared for a warrior's death.

"You were serious, Rogg?" His voice echoed. Yon-Rogg's hands fell to the buttons of his shirt. He felt vulnerable as he parted the fine fabric. Ronan turned to look at him. He laughed.

They met in the centre of the chamber. Yon-Rogg's head tilted up to look is Ronan's dark violet eyes. He realized with Vers behind him and Xandar below that he would not die nobly. He would in fact die as slowly as necessary to give Vers time to come to her senses.

"Your actions questioned my honour. Our people have an agreed upon way to handle these things."

"You broker peace with an ancient enemy and still tout our teachings? You are a conflicted man." Ronan signaled to the shadows. "But I would not have you meet your fate unprepared."

A servant brought forth a golden bowl. It was murky with ancient mud. The glittering paint the Kree had ornamented themselves with since before the Supremor had risen. Yon-Rogg looked at it and felt a thousand generations rise and pass through him. He was left only with the feeling of Vers in his arms. Beneath his feet he felt shudder of his ship departing. Ronan smiled wickedly.

"Your ship leaves without you. Even those who serve you are cowards."

She was following his orders. Relief passed through him. Yon-Rogg looked up at Ronan over the bowl between them. He reached out for it.

With the barest change of course Yon-Rogg knocked the bowl upwards into Ronan's face. The servant scurried away as Ronan howled. He fell back his face spattered with black. His eyes obscured.

"Honourless bastard," Ronan hurled at as Yon-Rogg struck him. Knocking him backwards.

"Not the first time I have heard that," Yon-Rogg darted back on quick feet as Ronan found his footing. His sounds more animal than man as he bent to swipe at Yon. They dodged each other, Ronan trying to grapple him with Yon-Rogg blocking and kicking. The ship shuddered as it collided with a wave of Nova Corps.

At last Ronan caught Yon-Rogg about the chest from behind. He lifted back his arms crushing Yon-Rogg's ribs. Yon-Rogg choked around the cracking of bone. Around them the low lights of the ship flickered and dimmed. The drive whined as the power faltered.

"What is happening?" Ronan demanded his eyes roving the chamber wildly. Despite the pain Yon-Rogg's fear spiked. She couldn't.

There was a metallic thunk as the drives stopped followed by the weightless feeling of falling. Ronan dropped Yon and he rolled away as the cabin tipped.

With a crack the drives kicked on again. The ship lurched more. Yon-Rogg struggled to his feet, his hands gripping his sides.

"What did you do?" Ronan demanded as a rumbling filled the cabin. There was the screeching of metal.

"This isn't me," Yon-Rogg panted, blood coming from his mouth.

The back wall of the chamber blew open and the nose of his ship split the metal panels. Vers was steely eyed in the pilot's chair.

"The weapon," Ronan whispered with awe. There was more banging as Vers blew open the side doors. She strutted into the chamber her fist lit and clenched by her sides.

"Lose my invitation, Ronan?" She called.

"Vers, how?" Yon-Rogg grunted. She held the chain from one hand. She dropped it on the ground.

"You know what they say about chains and their weakest links?" She answered him. "Turns out the Aster's drive is about as powerful as a verrasteel weld."

Yon-Rogg stumbled slightly on his feet. "You drained the engines."

He laughed around the pain. He had not planned for that. Vers made a move to come to his side but stopped her eyes flicking to Ronan.

"Him first, then you" she nodded at the blue mountain of a man. He bared his teeth at her.

"Will you fight in Rogg's stead? Do you defend his honour?" Ronan taunted her.

"Yes," she ran towards him fists raised. The ship continued to drive itself into the Nova Corps. Yon-Rogg suspected they were guiding them rudderless towards impact.

Vers collided with Ronan. He blocked her fiery fists but she kept landing blow after blow. Yon-Rogg felt the heat in the chamber rise as they tilted back and forth. Sparks burst from panels as Ronan roared. He landed a blow that hurled Vers back. She hit the nose of the ship and fell forward. Her hands clenched in the rubble. She pushed herself up growling at him. Her lip split and Yon-Rogg could see the blue of her blood. His blood. Blood that marred her chin and spattered his chest. He tried to move to her but she let out a battle cry and threw herself forward again.

She split the air in the cabin with her flight. She arched upwards and Ronan's eyes followed her above his head.

"You missed-" he started before the verrasteel chain looped around his neck. The chamber shook. They had reached the ground, Yon-Rogg could feel it in his feet. Ronan choked and grabbed for the chain as Vers pulled back. Spit flew from his mouth.

Through the hole Vers' had made in the ship the Nova Corps began to pile in, blasters raised.

"Let him go," Yon-Rogg commanded. Vers' glowing eyes looked at him unseeing. "There is only justice with trial. Leave him."

Vers' grip tightened as she glowed more fiercely. The fabric of her clothes sizzling. He limped toward her as Ronan sagged. He picked up his shirt where it had been discarded.

"Carol," he said softly as he reached her. The Nova Corps looked unsure. "He isn't worth it."

Her eyes looked at him and her snarled lips relaxed. She loosened her grip star fire extinguishing. He reached for her as best he could throwing his shirt about her shoulders as he grunted at the pain in his side.

The Nova Corps flooded around them as she ducked beneath his arm.

"You're an idiot," she hissed at him as he let her support his weight.

"But an old idiot," he muttered into her hair.

* * *

Her ship was still docked in orbit around Xandar. It had been a week. She sat in the pilot's chair watching the planet slowly creep by. She ate cereal, the milk going blue in the bottom of the bowl.

She heard a noise behind her. She was growing used to this. The sounds of someone else.

"That's barely food," he huffed ducking into the chamber. She knew he still babied his ribs even as he refused to admit he was still injured.

"It's easy. Are you going to start cooking?" She raised her eyebrows at him.

"That would require food on board," he leaned over her chair pressing a kiss to her temple.

"Any news?" She asked putting the bowl on the floor. He gave her a significant look. He hated her housekeeping. "Peace treaty canceled?"

"On hold. The Supremor is reviewing their position."

"How long will that take?" She kneeled in the chair wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Until Nova Prime agrees to release Ronan."

"A bad course," she shook her head, nose brushing his.

"Terrible," he agreed leaning forward and capturing her mouth. She laughed and he punctuated each syllable with a kiss. "We could be here for weeks. Months."

She pulled away slightly so she could see his eyes. "And the Supremor doesn't wonder why you aren't planetside with the Ambassador?"

"It's not prudent for me to be among them." He pressed an open mouthed kiss to her neck. "Our enemies could be anywhere. It's better that no one knows my location."

Her laughter turned to sighs as she arched into him. "You are a liar, Yon-Rogg."

"I prefer to think of it as being a tactful negotiator," he murmured as he reached her chest, tongue moving over the hard bone of her sternum. His hands dipped to her hips.

"And what is it you are negotiating for now?"

"Stay with me."

"For how long?" She let him start undoing the buttons of her shirt but she didn't help him.

"Until I am too old." She wrapped her arms more firmly around his neck and let him lift her. He groaned as his ribs ached.

"You already sound too old."

"Give me an hour."

"You have two minutes." He laughed as he carried her.


End file.
